


More Time

by CosmoandWanda



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Idk i've never written something so plotless before, M/M, argument, dinner date, is this just a scene rewrite?, this might just be fluff, under the guise of an argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmoandWanda/pseuds/CosmoandWanda
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley have a spat about the end of the world.





	More Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm new here (the good omens fandom) and I'm... just super embarrassed about it tbh. Anyway here's some dialogue that was stuck in my head and is now on the internet.

“Now you listen to me,” Crowley hissed. 

“I am listening!” Aziraphale cried, throwing his hands in the air. “I am listening. I am standing here, _listening to you_ , as you-”

“As I try to save us! There’s not going to be anything- _anything_ for us here Angel! This isn’t the flood! This isn’t just some- some _tetchy_ decision being made. This is the plan and this plan does not need to involve us!”

“It has always involved us!” Aziraphale spluttered. “Crowley this is- you’re just talking nonsense!”

“Nonsense?!”

“Nonsense! Balderdash! Just absolute poppycock!”

Crowley took a deep breath as if he were about to take issue with the vocabulary being used to describe him, but as he let the air leave his lungs he turned away from the white-haired angel. 

In a softer voice, Aziraphale continued, “Crowley we can’t just… walk away from who we are. Being an angel and a demon-”

“Is that all we are? Really, is that all you would use to describe yourself?” Crowley snapped, whirling back around. “Because I am _so_ much more than that. You- you’ve even called me-”

“Nice?”

“That! And I have plants, and I like kids, and for fucks sake I am not just the Fallen! I’m not just some nameless demon! And neither are you- you, book-keeping, best-dressed, _bastard_!”

The air hung in resounding silence after this last exclamation. Crowley, with some sense of embarrassment ran a hand through his hair, then over his eyes. Aziraphale stared owlishly at the display, trying to decide which of the many emotions he was experiencing to allow on his face. For the moment, his lips formed a sort of grimace, causing his nose to wrinkle slightly. 

A second passed. Then another. Crowley was determined not to be the one to speak first, but the slight stutter in his breath suggested the resolution was not as firm as he would have liked. Finally Aziraphale sighed.

“I didn’t mean that you were only a demon. I just meant that that’s how our sides view us. To _me_ you are…” Aziraphale pinked as he paused, swallowing uncomfortably. “You are much more than a demon. Regardless, we cannot act without consideration. Just because we don’t wish to be a part of the plan, doesn’t mean we get to just… opt out!”

Crowley rolled his eyes before dropping into a chair. Aziraphale sat down across from him, quietly reheating the dinner they had abandoned for their argument. He wished it had been close to the first time such an occasion arose, but Aziraphale was beginning to suspect he knew the taste of miracle-warmed food as familiarly as any other. Of course, this would likely be one of the last times this pattern could play out, and he realized with some shock that he would miss the slight blandness that followed a dinner-and-show with Crowley. 

“I just wish we had more time.” Aziraphale sighed. 

“I know, Angel. That’s really all I want too.” Crowley admitted.


End file.
